


Pumpkins

by withinmelove



Series: Hannictober [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Ghosts, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8193503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/pseuds/withinmelove
Summary: Will and Hannibal still talk to Abigail despite her mortal death.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the second day of Hannictober! I'm glad I caught up before it was too late.

The wind nips at Will’s nose and cheeks stinging his eyes and making them water. However today of all days he will not be deterred by weather. Hannibal walks beside him pumpkin resting on his hip like a child. They went to the pumpkin patch the first day it opened to pick out the best ones. 

The dogs snuffle and bound through the dead leaves that crunch underfoot. Will smiles at their simple joy of running and the autumn air but doesn’t share their easy happiness. By the time they reach the mausoleum both their arms are trembling from the effort of carrying their burdens. The resting place is a small house really. A way to repay Abigail even if it’s only her spirit. Will reaches out to Hannibal able to breathe a little easier when his husband holds his hand. 

“What would Abigail like Will?” 

Will squeezes his eyes shut, after images burn behind his eyelids at the pressure. 

“She’s been silent since Italy.” 

The grip on his hand tightens. Hannibal is _afraid_.

“She’s gone?” 

A note of true panic and - _ah_ there Abigail is – she hums in smug satisfaction at Hannibal’s reaction. Will shakes his head letting out the painful breath he had been holding in. No, no thank god she is not gone. 

“No – just angry at us. She thinks – no she says we’ve been ignoring her. Abigail’s furious we took so long to bury her properly. She says you didn’t honor her.”

A sharp pain through his temple lets Will know he’s got it in one. 

“Abigail.”

Hannibal’s voice causes another bolt of pain and Will wonders if he’s having an aneurysm. Aren’t those supposed to be painless? 

“She hears you.” Will grits out. 

“You are the teacup I wish I had not shattered in my anger Abigail. You didn’t deserve the death I gave you. All I can ask is will you forgive me and let me honor you now?”

“She says she won’t forgive you – yet, but that you can start by carving her a cat on her pumpkin.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is unedited so commas will be few to none.


End file.
